


High Caliber Humanity

by iiSolari



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Game: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six Siege
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26811862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiSolari/pseuds/iiSolari
Summary: A traumatized, emotionally starved Zitali García gets recruited into Rainbow Six for her talents, not expecting to make any friends. However, some of the veterans have a different plan.
Relationships: Alexsandr "Tachanka" Senaviev/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Zitali couldn’t begin to pay attention to what had been occurring around her. It’s not so much that the world seemed so drowned out, she just couldn’t pay attention past the sounds of her stomach growling. Ever since she got to Hereford Base, she hadn’t been able to quite focus on what she needed to do. The only information that her brain would allow her to remember were the locations of a few important things: The mess hall, the cages, her bunk, and her tour guide.

Mike didn’t seem to notice that his words were barely being received, continuing his show and tell about where she would be resting her head for several months. She, however, tuned back into reality when she noticed he had stopped in his tracks. They had run full circle, and now they were back in the cages.

“Did ya have any questions?” Mike asked quickly, his eyes scanning over Ali’s seemingly-distracted expression.

Ali averted her attention to him quickly, shaking her head in response as her eyes immediately began to travel around the area again.

“Find the flag that has your CTU’s country on it. That will be your storage,” he says to her simply. “See you at 0600 for your first simulation.”

The tall figure strides off, leaving Ali alone where she stood. Her eyes glided around the room to look for the Mexico flag, exhaling softly when she had managed to find it. She was given a code, in the beginning of the tour. Mike had given it to her quite quickly, wanting to finish the show so he could go back to his business. She couldn’t blame him, being an elite squad meant you were busy.

So she punched the numbers in, the gate buzzing and she pushed her way inside. It was empty, aside from her gadget that she needed to bring to R & D for evaluation. So she heaved a heavy sigh, dropping her bag that wasn’t filled with expensive and important things. She pushed a backpack with her gear off of her shoulder, swinging it around to the front of herself so she could properly open the bag and brandish her gear. Various small, hard cases were pulled and set down on the bench that had been laid in there for her use.

She decides to take a seat, opening the cases to take a look at what she had decided to bring.

The first one contained her thermal, which she had hooked up to the railing on top of her AR. It allowed her to move through smoke quietly, while being able to keep the enemy in her sights.

That was what she specialized in before she came into Rainbow. She had built quite a reputation for hostage extraction. Breach and Clear missions were second in line, her gear allowing her to safely infiltrate and kill whomever was a hostile.

She put it back in it’s designated spot, closing and locking the case. She put it to her side, gently reminding herself to reserve that case for R & D. She heaved a heavy sigh, but it faltered when she felt her stomach rumble once more in protest to her stalling.

Her face contorts to defeat, setting her gear cases down on the ground safely and standing up. She would just leave her bag here, and grab it on the way to her room.

She was thankful for the fact Rainbow provided single rooms. She was not one to share her space quite easily, and when she was interviewed she made that quite clear. She had to give credit to Six, she had been very accommodating when listening to Ali’s imposing request.

She pushes her duffel bag into the corner of the cage with her foot, fixing her hair before opening the gate to leave. She makes sure the gate is shut all the way, giving it a couple more cautious tugs after it had clicked closed. When that was said and done, she shoved her hands into her cargo pockets, shuffled down the hall awkwardly, and exited the storage area.

  
It didn’t take her long, thankfully, to find the mess hall once again. She thought her memory would continue to fail her, considering her wavering focus when Mike had shown her around Hereford. She pushes into the mess hall, her shoulders hunched to make her appear smaller as she weaved through the masses of people. She could feel a couple lingering eyes on her, curious of her sudden presence. She frowned a bit to herself, not appreciating the extra attention to her as she scoots to grab something to eat so her stomach would stop protesting.

When she had, she moved quickly to a table where she could place herself safely in a corner to observe. She wanted to study everyone, read them to understand if she could trust them to leave her alone. Trust them to leave her to her own devices, as she would have preferred it to be.

She huffed when she takes her seat, staring a bit at the food she put down in front of herself. It was a basic beef stew, something that she didn’t mind eating thankfully. However, she knew she couldn’t be picky about what she ingested. Military life made it so she wasn’t choosy about her palate. So she gives another soft sigh, picking up her silverware and taking the first bite of her stew.

For something that was mass-made, it wasn’t bad at all. So she proceeded to scoop sustenance into her mouth, chewing quietly as she stared around the room carefully.

Everyone was chatting up with someone that they had already known, of course. Rainbow, from what Ali could understand, was a tight-knit unit with hand-selected operators who were the best at what they do. It only made sense that they found their friends quickly, and decided to stick to their guns when out in the social grounds of the mess hall.

The concept didn’t really interest Ali. Knowing who knew who, however, was helpful. It kept her mind busy, studying the habits of others that she would be working with.

When she finally got her fill of the room, her eyes averted back down to her food as she began to eat just a tad faster. The room began to tune out in her head, her mind focusing on the meal’s taste and how much remained after around 20 seconds of comfortable silence.

More time had passed of Ali being on autopilot, setting her silverware down and pushing the empty plate a little further away from her. She reached her arms up and shut her eyes with a satisfied stretch, unable to see the large figure approaching her table.

She opened her eyes, seeing the shadow of another operator approaching. She knew the intention was to introduce themselves to her, the thought causing her to drop her arms and frown to herself.

“ _Mierda_ ,” she muttered dejectedly under her breath, her tattooed arms crossing over her chest to feel like she was funneling into her own body. She wanted to disappear, to not interact with anyone in the room. She had no desire to make friends, out of fear of losing them due to her own incompetence.

“Is the seat taken?” she heard a booming voice, a Russian accent rolling off of the tongue. The sound caused her to suddenly raise her head to see who had been speaking to her.

It had been one of the men she observed earlier. He had been sitting across the mess hall, directly on the opposite corner to her. However, he had been sitting with three others, all who quickly turned their curious heads back over their shoulders when Ali had made eye contact.

He was 6 feet tall, built like a tank. He was a bit on the older side, however he could have fooled anyone. The only reason Ali noticed his age was due to the very few, fine lines around his eyes and laugh lines at the edge of his lips. His blonde hair was streaked with grey at the roots, and stubble formed around his mouth and jawline. His eyes, despite the lines, were full of youth and vigor.

There was no point in her lying to him. He knew the chair was empty, no one had accompanied her the entire time she was here. He was just trying to be considerate, and it was only right she returned the favor.

“No,” was her response, her own accent rolling off her tongue.

He beams broadly, placing himself in front of her carefully. When he settled into his seat, he scanned her with his eyes and stuck his hand out for an introduction. “Alexsandr Senaviev.”

She was surprised he didn’t just scoop her hand from her, considering the intoxicating, positive energy that he had radiated since sitting down. She unravels her arms, clasping her hand in his. His touch was calloused, his grip strong. When he shook her hand, she thought he damn near had the power to pull it off of her wrist.

But he was careful, shaking once as she responded with a brief “Zitali.”

“Zi-…Zita-…Zitali,” he tried, his thick accent not quite smooth with her name. “ _Prosti_. I get tongue twisted. You have a beautiful name, and I’m sorry if I mess it up.”

“Ali is fine,” she responds quickly, unclasping her hand and tucking it back under her other arm.

“Ali! That is much easier!” he states proudly. “I hope that Rainbow treats you well!”

“It will,” she responded simply, watching him so she didn’t seem inconsiderate.

“Your tattoos,” he starts, gesturing to her sleeves on her arms. “They are very colorful, and the designs are interesting. Do they have meaning?”

She looks down at herself for a moment, staring at the array of bright colors streaking across her arms. The designs were reminiscent to her home, her traditions that she had abandoned so long ago. Granted, she had gotten the pieces done before she decided to toss her life away to the military.

“They’re of home,” she responded quickly, eyes meeting his once again.

He has his grin across his face once more, something that Ali would mentally note as his trademark. “Ah! I understand! I miss home,” he sighs, leaning forward in his seat in interest. “I miss my children, nieces, nephews.”

It was as if he had a light over his head, and he digs into the pockets of his pants to brandish a cell phone. “Let me show you them! I love them all dearly!” he says enthusiastically as he unlocks the device.

Ali almost stammered as he opened the photo gallery on the screen, picking one of his favorite photos of his family and pushing the screen for her to see.

She cracks a small, endeared smile. The photo consisted of various bodies, all smiling in the Russian snow. All of them, happy and well-taken care of from the looks of it.

“They look happy,” she comments, earning a laugh from Alex as he begins to scroll to the next photo.

“They are!” he replied to her, showing her the next photo on the reel to his phone.

The conversation became more and more like a tangent for Alex. Every photo that he had taken led them to a five minute story about his family or something that had happened to himself. At first, she wanted the conversation to end, for him to leave her to her lonesome. However, the longer he spoke about the things he enjoyed, the more she felt compelled for him to keep going. She was allured to listen, his enthusiasm and personality radiating through him. It was contagious and welcoming in every sense, which was a feeling unfamiliar to Ali.

She was almost weary of it.

After a good while of scrolling through family photos and listening closely on his stories, he pockets his phone with a contented sigh. “Thank you for listening. I hope the stories bring you joy.”

Ali nods her head with a very light chuckle. “They were great.”

He beams once again. “Good! However, I don’t want to keep you here. You have unpacking to do, yes?” he clarifies, standing up in his seat and looking down at her.

With how long they had been sitting, Ali had almost forgotten how large Alex had been. “I do.”

“Well, I am usually across the room. If you feel you want to, my comrades will welcome you to sit with us!” he said affirmatively. “And if they don’t, I don’t care. I enjoyed our chat, and I would like to have another.”

“I will consider,” Ali replied to him, offering him a brief but small smile.

“It’s not a no!” he booms cheerily. “It was nice to meet you, Ali!”

“Pleasure,” Ali responds, half saluting with two fingers and watching him as he bounded back across the room.

-

Translations:

Mierda - shit

Prosti - Sorry


	2. Simulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali shows Rainbow what she's made of in her first simulation at Hereford base.

0600.

Mike had instructed her to be at the simulation preparation at this hour. So here she was, grouped up with the operators that she had been assigned to team up with.

Her attacker team consisted of: Seamus “Sledge” Cowden, Craig “Blackbeard” Jenson, Timur “Glaz” Glazkov, and Elias “Blitz” Kötz. They had introduced themselves to her when they had all filed into the room to discuss the plan of attack against the defensive simulation team.

Zitali watched Mike closely as he explained what the objective was.

It was meant to be a simulation of a bomb defuse. The attacker squad would breach the simulation building, find out where the objective is located, and plant the defuser. It would leave the defenders twenty seconds to either clear the room or hack the defuser. If all of the attacker squad were to be eliminated before the defuser is in play, they would lose. If the defender squad were to successfully hack the defuser, the attackers would lose. If the attackers cleared the building before the defuser is in play, they would win.

Gadgets, guns, and grenades would all be used on the field. However, all of them had been changed in R&D to contain chalk rounds rather than actual lethal components.

Simple enough, Ali thought, standing up when Mike dismissed them after giving them a run down of the rules and regulations.

They exited the meeting area together, Ali’s eyes resting on the three story building that loomed over the shooting range. It was damaged and decrepit, and Ali was quite surprised that it was still standing. Maybe that was the point, though, to simulate entering this area that seemed so… desolate.

“Attackers, prep for insertion,” Ali heard the intercom call. Elias threw out a camera, a little RC drone that he would pilot while the rest of the attackers began moving themselves to their designated breach points. However, Ali decided to stay a little further back, to be sure she knew where the bomb was located.

“Third floor,” Elias says over the radio that they were all presented with, so they could communicate with ease. “I’ve spotted Tachanka, Bandit, Caveira, Pulse, and Mira.”

“Copy that, I’m en route to the basement floor,” Ali replied to Elias, now to be labelled ‘Blitz’ during this situation.

So she drapes her FX-05 Xiuhcoatl to her front, grabbing hold of the grip to keep the weapon sturdy. Her plan was to push from the bottom floor, since she didn’t think that anyone would be searching so low in the building for any intrusions.

“Stay frosty, Cadejo,” Ali could hear Blackbeard on the other end of her radio. “We don’t have any coverage down there. Not even Glaz.”

“Copy,” was her only response as she begins to break down a barricaded door with the butt of her rifle.

The loud snap of the wood paneling darting outward rung through the brick hallway, clattering against the concrete ground. Ali exhaled slowly to prep for the worst, hitting twice more before the panels had crumpled onto the floor. She pressed her weapon into her shoulder, so it lay comfortably, staring through her thermal as she checked the right corner of the door. 

Nobody.

She finally steps into the blue illuminated hall, spinning to check the other corner once she began to hear steps. Nothing close to her, from what she could tell, so she turns left and strafes carefully and quietly toward the stairs in front of her. Now she was in a hot zone, and she needed to watch her own back until she could group up with her allies.

She could hear someone on the stairs that she had been creeping towards, causing her to pause in her tracks and listen. She could hear the shuffling of shoes, right above her head. Someone had found their place there, but not before she had broken the barricade in. Whomever it had been, they had no idea that she was there.

So she quietly turns her AR over her shoulder to brandish her silenced Obregon, hunching low to the ground so her steps were almost soundless. She could only focus on her movements. One foot after the other, pressing daintily against the concrete so she wouldn’t be made.

When she finally had made her way to where she had heard the shuffling, she ends up right behind Bandit. He had himself peering around the corner, watching a doorway that led to where Sledge had breached in.

So Ali closes the distance quickly, and before he could react she places the barrel against his ribs with enough to distance to where he wouldn’t be harmed by the impact. She lays into the trigger twice, ignoring the white puff of powder that impacted against his plate carrier.

It doesn’t take him much time to recover from the impact, cupping his side that Ali had laid into and giving an exhale. He moved past Ali, and whomever was in the next room, to exit the premises since he had been out.

The rest of the simulation was still in motion, even with the change of body count. Ali branched off from her place on the stairs, grouping up with Sledge and, evidently, Elias.

She crouches to relay quickly to him. “Heading through Loom. Scouting this floor for more threats.”

“Understood,” he replies quickly.

Ali weaves back out just as quickly as she had come in, brushing past Blackbeard with a quickness as she pushed into a narrow hall surrounded by drywall.

She puts her pistol away and her hand falls on the grip once more. Her left hand traveled up to her hand guard, gripping it softly so her aim would not falter.

Once she had managed to check a couple of the adjacent rooms for any bodies, she could hear a crossfire happening in the floor above. Over the scuffle, she could hear the radio in her ear sound off.

“I’m being pinned down in kids’,” Glaz says over the intercom. “Pulse spotted me, I could use some backup!”

“En route to your position,” Blackbeard replied quickly, knowing that Ali wasn’t able to make it. He understood checking the first floor would be important to the mission, to ensure that they wouldn’t be flanked by Cav.

So Blackbeard pushes forward, while Ali moves to the room adjacent to the kitchen. She peers inside, the butt of her gun pressed against her shoulder. What she couldn’t see, just yet, was Caviera hiding in the kitchen. Waiting for an open spot to catch Ali off guard.

Ali spins to check her corners, staring intently for any shifting in her thermal scope. She exhales slowly, sticking the barrel of her gun into the doorway leading to the kitchen. Nothing immediately out of place, from what she could see. So she takes a careful step inside.

However, she startled quick when there was a loud explosion that sounded to her left. She spun around to see what it could be, hearing the counter drop to three attackers and three defenders.

They had gotten Pulse, but not before Pulse had his finger on a detonator for his C4.

In her startle, Cav began to creep around the corner to close the distance while Ali was seemingly distracted.

However, the Cuerpas veteran heard a slight shuffle next to her, spinning around and instinctively popping three shots into Cav’s torso. The chalk rounds spread, and the impact had knocked her to the floor.

With a quickness, Ali had moved forward, ignoring the announcer counting down.

Defuser was lost in the scuffle with Pulse, now loose on the field. Someone had to be watching over it, and considering who was left on their roster, it was more than likely Mira. Ali could feel it in her gut.

“Glaz, do you copy?” she whispers into her headset.

“Copy,” he responded, equally as quiet now that there was no shots harassing him.

“Defuser is on the field,” Ali reports as she checks the rest of her corners to make sure no one was going to follow her around the room again. “Elias had it, but he went down on main stairs.”

“Shit… I will try to recover it,” he says to her.

“Be on guard,” she warns. “I have a feeling Mira will be watching it.”

There is silence once again, and Ali figured that it was because Glaz was on the move once more.

So she began to sneak into the first floor hall, looking to her left and gazing at the white powdered stairs in thought. She sighs to strengthen her focus, pushing quietly up to the second floor.

In doing so, she could hear a scuffle happening. Mira and Glaz were in a fight, and she could only hope she could get there to assist him. Whether it would be fast enough without giving away her position, she wouldn’t know.

She crouches low to the ground, moving her AR to her back and brandishing her pistol. She steps up the stairs with a similar quickness she had when discovering Bandit, hoping that she would be able to reach Glaz just before the counter would go down.

She didn’t. She heard another set of explosions. Glaz had thrown a grenade, while Mira had thrown a C4. They had traded, and now it was one on one.

And of course, the one who was left was easily double her size.

She sighs, picking the defuser off of the ground. She puts her pistol back in its holster so she could pick a smoke grenade. She hooks the pull ring, ripping it off and throwing the grenade with only a slight arc so it clattered on the ground on the third floor. 

She heard it detonate, smiling beneath her bandana and hauling the detonator quickly and quietly up the steps.

When she saw the brick third floor, she saw the grenade would have landed at Tachanka’s feet if he were to have been sitting on his turret. And judging by the heavy sounding footsteps that she had picked up on when she ascended the stairs, he was.

But now he was missing, in one of the rooms directly to her left or her right.

She makes a gamble, moving quietly to her right. However, her ears picked up on a silent stirring on the other side of the door frame. He was here. Waiting for her.

She would be glad to entertain.

So she pushes through the door, turning to her right quickly. There was the barrel of a pistol stuck in her face, aimed directly at her forehead. She grips it, twisting his arm and knocking the pistol out of his hand. It clattered loudly on the ground, earning a loud laugh from him.

He connected a hard elbow to her jaw to get her to let go, which succeeded. The force behind the hit left her a bit disoriented, but she managed to gather herself quickly to see the giant of a man try to rush her again.

Now it was hand to hand combat. Something that she did well, however he easily could best her in on sheer size alone.

She stopped him with a quick swipe upward, raising his helmet visor so she could have a couple clear shots at his face if need be. Just as quickly as she swiped up, she landed a couple good shots to his sternum. It didn’t seem to do much, however, due to the layering of protective gear that he had donned.

“Shit…” she whispers to herself, parrying a punch that he had tried to connect to her diaphragm. 

When she parried, she didn’t expect him to close the distance. He had been a bit slow, due to his equipment and his size. However, he had managed to surprise her, and tried to pull her up. Grappling was more than likely his niche, and luckily she knew how to counteract.

So when he lifted her off of the ground, she spun her body quickly so her legs locked around his shoulder. Her hands grabbed at his wrist, pulling it back. Eventually, the weight of her on his arm’s swiveled him, and he landed hard on the ground.

So now she had him in an arm bar, one of her legs wrapped over his neck. The only way that he would walk out of his is by tapping out, and losing the round. 

His pride wasn’t letting him, and Ali could see it. No matter how much he struggled to breathe, no matter how much his face went red.

So she decided to chide. “No shame in tapping out, Alex. Come on. Get out of it, or pass out.”

So he takes a couple of seconds to contemplate, before tapping her thigh. As soon as she felt his fingers press, she unraveled her legs and spun back up to her feet. The counter, in the background, went down and the announcer spoke of the Attacker victory.

She extends a hand out to Tachanka, her free hand pulling her bandana down so it rested around her neck rather than over the bridge of her nose. “Well played.”

He takes a couple of heavy breaths, sitting up from his spot on the ground. His eyes glanced up at her, and once his breathing had evened he had a wide grin.

“Well done, Ali! You’ve impressed me!” he speaks, back to his joyous nature in a matter of seconds. He clasps his hand into hers, and she braces herself as she helps the man get off of the ground.

“I’ve trained for situations such as these,” she says to him, a little more open to speak to him.

Something about fighting one on one with someone was refreshing. It allowed for a much higher form of respect. Ali always believed you could tell a lot about a person by how they fight. So now that she had been exposed to such a force of nature, she honored him with the respect he deserved.

“I can tell! You fight well!” he says to her with a grin, picking up his turret and propping it on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” she says, smiling just a bit.

The sight caused Alex to grin once more, and he began to haul all of his belongings out of the simulation building.

She followed along next to him, not having nearly as much to carry out. So she takes a look at him, his equipment, and decides to speak once more.

“Do you need help?” she asks him, gesturing to his helmet that he had in his hands and the turret on his shoulder.

He looks down at her. “I promise I will be alright. It gives me a chance to show off, yeah?” he winked.

Ali seemed to pause at the gesture, shaking her head and offering a soft laugh. “Alright. Suit yourself, Alex.”

He let out one of his trademark loud laughs. “Let’s go put this away, and then we can go eat. I’m starving.”


End file.
